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“Based on that display, I’m surprised people aren’t lining up to do the honors.” I reply, dryly.
“No, but seriously what was that?” Thayer asks, and I hear the slight tremble in her voice. “Are you alright Bellamy?” Her hand comes towards the front of the golf cart and she squeezes my shoulder reassuringly as I nod. “Why aren’t you freaking out more?”
I’m honestly not sure.
The initial moment of my gaze meeting his chilling, soulless one had rooted me to the spot. Where the rest of him was cold as ice, his gaze burned with an inferno that promised retaliation for spilling the milkshake on him.
He’d told me to shut the fuck up and immediately sent my back up.
And then he’d wrapped his large hand around my throat, and fear had sent anger careening out of my body.
Fear and something else.
Something that felt oddly like lust at the way his dominant grip held me.
The parts of me under his hold had tingled, sending an awareness to my brain of a part of my body I hadn’t even known was an erogenous zone.
I was more horrified at the way my body had reacted to the threatening grip than I was at the whole situation.
“We have to tell someone about this. Should we go to the principal?”
“No!” I cry out. “No, we can’t. He runs this school. His family probably had a hand in financially backing the scholarship, I can’t risk putting it at risk.”
“We can’t just do nothing.”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do. I’m going to lie low and hopefully by Monday he’ll have forgotten all about this.”
“Yeah, that sounds like a great plan.” Six adds with faked enthusiasm. I know what she’s really thinking.
I shouldn’t have provoked him.
But if he thought I was going to bow down to him because of one mistake, he had another thing coming. I felt bad about ruining his shirt, but I wasn’t going to do his laundry.
An idea emerges.
“Do you think I can buy him another shirt? I can get things delivered here, right?”
Nera whips her phone out and starts typing away. “I’ll find it, just give me a couple of minutes.”
“It’s probably going to be really expensive, Bellamy.” Six warns.
“It’s $300.” Nera says, looking up from her phone.
“Three hundred dollars?” I ask, indignant. “For a t-shirt? Was it hand stitched with gold thread?”
“It’s Off-White.” She replies with a shrug.
My monthly scholarship stipend is five hundred dollars, so that’s going to be tight. But I’m used to shopping on a budget and if it’s going to resolve an unnecessary conflict, I’ll make it work.
“Just buy it.”
“I can grocery shop for the both of us, we’ll make the stipend work.” Thayer says, understanding what the decision I’m making means and reading my mind, as always.
“Yeah, obviously what’s mine is yours. That goes without saying.” Six adds.
“Retweet. Also, the t-shirt is ordered.” Nera says, thrusting the phone in my direction to show me the anticipated delivery date.
It should be here on Saturday, which means I’ll be able to give it to him on Monday when classes start. Perfect.
